


A Night at the Opera.

by The_Magic_Rat



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23782468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Rat/pseuds/The_Magic_Rat
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go to the opera and act like themselves.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	A Night at the Opera.

**Author's Note:**

> Last brain fart before getting back to commission fics and 'A Day in the Life'.

_**Good Omens - A Night at the Opera.** _

_**Author: The Magic Rat  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale, Gabriel/Beelzebub  
Warnings: None.  
Word Count: 665** _

_**Website – Ex Libris: http://www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/index.html  
Live Journal: http://delaese.livejournal.com/profile** _

_**Disclaimer: All Good Omens characters, places and situations are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, and are used without permission and without intent of plagiarism or profit. Copyright for all stories and original characters is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.** _

_**Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go to the opera and act like themselves.** _

_**Author’s notes: Last brain fart before getting back to commission fics and 'A Day in the Life'.** _

~*~*~*~*~*~

"This is so exciting," said Aziraphale as he and Crowley went to their box in the grand opera house. "I've been simply dying to see "L'étoile"! I'm so glad you agreed to come, it would have been no fun at all without you."

"I just don't like all the death and gloom in most operas," said Crowley, handing his top hat, frock coat, and cobra-headed cane to an attendant.

"Oh no, this is a comedy. I've been assured it's very good." Aziraphale likewise handed his cane, coat, and hat to the attendant, then seated himself in a gilt and velvet chair next to Crowley's. He chanced a glance at his favourite hereditary enemy as the attendants bustled off, noticing something a bit unusual about his friend.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

"Yes, well, I'm getting ready for a molt and my skin is not quite a natural shade at the moment. It's not too heavy, is it?"

"No, it's rather good," said Aziraphale. "Did you do it yourself?"

"Yes but I had the local undertaker show me how. You're sure it looks all right?"

"You look splendid, Crowley. You do however have a teensy bit of something stuck to your cheek."

Aziraphale reached out to take hold of what appeared to be a tiny piece of matter on Crowley's face. He pulled on it, and watched in utter horror as an enormous flake of skin came away. Crowley now looked as if he had some sort of scar as a result of a violent altercation going straight up his cheek. The flesh beneath the old skin was far too pink, and was clearly not quite ready to be exposed yet. 

Aziraphale just stared, blue eyes enormous, jaw hanging. Crowley sighed quietly and looked over to his angel, who promptly hid behind his hands, mortified.

"I am so sorry."

"Angel..."

"Oh dear Heavens."

"What did you do?"

"Peeled you like an onion. Oh Crowley I am so very sorry."

"How bad is it?"

Aziraphale peered between his fingers at his companion. Crowley was staring at him, clearly not at all pleased, stylishly dressed and made up, with a veritable flag of dry skin jutting from the side of his face. Despite being horrendously embarrassed, Aziraphale began to giggle at the sight. Crowley flung his head back, likely rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

"Wonderful."

"I am so very sorry. Here, maybe we can sort of stick it back on..."

Aziraphale reached out and tried gently to put the skin back in place, to no avail. He froze as Crowley turned his head slightly to nuzzle into his hand. For a long moment, neither moved. Then Aziraphale slowly removed his hand.

"Well, there is clearly only one thing to do," said Aziraphale, trying to regain his composure as he blushed slightly. "Invite you back to my place for wine and cake, and...even out your skin."

Crowley grinned. "I think I'd like that. But there is a problem, you realize."

"And what's that?"

"I don't just molt on my face. I molt all...over...my body."

Crowley watched Aziraphale turn a vibrant red as he realized what that meant. Grinning broadly, Crowley leaned back in his chair to watch the start of the opera.


End file.
